The Calm Before The Storm
by kjt1
Summary: Can Donna get Josh to leave the staff alone on Election Day? Well, she always did love a challenge! JD obviously.


Title: The Calm Before The Storm  
Disclaimer: Yeah, they're not mine, unfortunately  
Rating: K+  
Spoilers: The Cold and the promo for Election Day  
Notes: I haven't written JD fic in a long, long time and only recently watched S6, even though I've had it on my laptop since it aired. However, the recent stuff has inspired me, particularly the promo for ED. As soon as I saw it, this fic popped into my head and I wrote it in less than ten minutes – hope it doesn't show!

* * *

"I want the numbers!" Josh yells.

In response, Lou literally screams, "Josh!"

Okay, I've been here before and I can't not step up to the plate, the sanity of too many people rests on my shoulders right now. I stroll over to Josh and tap him on the shoulder. He whirls around with his hands held out, obviously expecting numbers.

"Do you remember last election I asked what it would take to get you to go to the movies for eight hours?" I say sweetly, trying not to smile at the look of confusion on his face, which he quickly replaces with almost abject horror.

"Donna, I can't leave! I need the numbers!"

Okay, time to bring out the big guns.

"I bet I can get you to leave," I challenge.

He smirks at me. "Bet you can't." Yup, he goes from annoying campaign manager to 5 year old boy in less than two seconds.

Leaning forward, I whisper in his ear, "It might not take eight hours, but I can think of a pretty good way to keep both of us occupied for I hope at least eight minutes." His eyes bug out as his head whips around to stare at me. I meet his gaze and lick my lips, drawing him further into my lair. Wow, if I'd known it was that easy, I'd have done this four years ago. Or, you know, when we first met.

"Donna and I are going to do some strategizing," he announces. "Keep us posted on the numbers." I nudge him in the ribs and he quickly amends, "Just send me a text message, don't want to interrupt our train of thought."

Thankfully, everyone is so relieved that Josh is leaving the immediate vicinity, they don't spot his stupid lame ass excuse for what it is; a booty call. Of course, even if they did realize, no way in hell would we be stopping. For the next hour at least, his ass is mine, though, it's not so much his ass I want right now, but it's a damn good place to start. To emphasize my point, I follow him out the door and not-so-casually attach my right hand to his belt, just above his butt. He hesitates for a moment, but then proceeds, with an even more noticeable swagger than usual. An hour may be too high an estimation of how long Josh can be distracted on Election Day, but I'm willing to give it my all.

And that is how we ended up here, in Josh's hotel room. Well, in bed in Josh's hotel room. With Ronna banging on the door asking Josh if he has me.

"Oh, I have her alright," he mutters cockily. We're side by side, a bit of distance between us, but only because we've already done the cuddling thing and are now basking in the afterglow. Our clothes are strewn on the bed – how they managed to end up there and not on the floor, I have no idea – and Josh is lying back with his 'I'm da man' expression. For my part, I know I won't be able to knock the blissful expression off my face for quite some time.

"Are you going to answer her?" I ask, turning my head to look at him, my eyes immediately drawn to the muscular chest that I just finished getting to know intimately.

"What do you need?" he calls through the door, not moving from his position, but settling a smirk on his face. Trust a politician to answer a question with a question when in a potentially tricky situation.

"Lou wants her to brief the press," Ronna replies.

I can tell Josh is itching to go and answer the door in person, but given his current state of undress, that's not really an option. However, not answering the door is also a sure-fire way of her knowing exactly what's going on.

"Tell her to give us thirty minutes so we can finish up here," he finally says. Ronna says okay and all is silent for a moment until Josh turns to me. "Thirty minutes isn't my usual style, but I'm willing to scale down the theatrics just this once."

"Oh, how thoughtful of you," I comment with a roll of my eyes. His eyebrows rise in response and as he starts to sit up I hastily place a hand on his chest and add, "I'll be sure to be appreciative."

When we return to HQ twenty-nine minutes later, it's a much calmer and happier Josh Lyman that greets the staff.

* * *

Fin 


End file.
